The Journal
by Basil101
Summary: A girl from our time finds an empty old journal at the attic and a series of correspondence begins between her and the Prince of Mirkwood through the journal.
1. Chapter 1

The Journal

**Summary:** A girl from our time finds an old empty journal at the attic and a series of correspondence begins between her and the Prince of Mirkwood through the journal.

**Disclaimer: **Mr Tolkien owns all.

**:::**

Chapter 1

"Belle!" I hear my name being called and a series of pounding comes soon after at my door. I look at the digital clock on my bedside table. It is _seven _in the morning. How _nice_ of my mother to wake me so early on a weekend. "Belle!"

"Coming!" I shout back as I throw my legs off the bed. The floor is very cold and I hurry to find my pink bunny slippers. Mum saw them on display on a shop once and thought they were cute. She bought them immediately after.

I unlock the door and let her enter.

"Grandma's coming in an hour. Have you got everything ready?"

I run a long list of things inside my head. Everything is checked except for the hideous yellow curtains which are tucked away in a corner at the attic. Grandma has a strange obsession over those curtains and would make a request for them everytime she comes over to stay for the summer.

"All except the curtains," I tell her. "I'll go get them.

The attic is, well, just how we left it a few weeks ago after spring cleaning. There are many cardboard boxes stacked around the place. There would have been much dusts and cobwebs too had we not cleaned the small room.

I finally find the curtains amidst all the junk stored in the attic. I have been considering for a long time to have a garage sale. We seriously need to get rid of all our junk.

As I take the curtains out, I notice a book placed right at the bottom. It is an old leather bound book and the pages has turned yellow with age. I flip open the book to random pages and realised that the book is empty. Nothing has been written on it yet.

It is a journal, I realise. That is why it is empty. You're suppose to fill it up.

I take the curtains and the old empty journal downstairs. I leave the journal on my desk as I proceed to the room next door to put up the curtains.

Grandma arrives earlier than we expected. The doorbell rings just as soon as I am done with her room and I walk downstairs to greet her.

"Isabelle!" Grandma comes to hug me. She looks the same as I had seen her last summer, clad in the same old white pokka dotted purple dress and carrying a giant yellow umbrella with her. She smells the same too, of peppermint.

"So how's my favourite grandson?" she asks me.

Huh? What grandson?

"Mum! Isabelle's your grand_daughter_! Not grandson!" my mother tells her.

Oh boy. I hope Grandma's not turning senile. How can she forget I'm a girl?

It is evening when I finally have time to look at the journal again. We went out in the morning and have just come back not too long ago. I wash up and change into a tank top and shorts.

I decide to use the old journal. I have been keeping a diary since I was a little girl and it so happens that I need a new one. So why waste this one? It may be old but it is still usable.

I inspect the leather cover of the book again and trail my fingers along the edge. I bring to the book my face and I inhale slightly. It has a musky smell. Duh! It must have been ancient.

I then open to the first page to start writing. To my surprise, there is something already written there. The person who has written it has really good penmanship.

_T.A. 3018 March 21_

_Aragorn has brought a pitiful creature into Mirkwood today. Gollum is what they call him. It is apparent that the poor creature was mercilessly tortured by the enemy._

_Legolas_

I read the date again. Weird. The entry is written in the year 3018. And what does 'T.A.' mean? Did the person get the dates wrong? I turn to the next page. There is one more entry. Why didn't I see this earlier?

_T.A. 3018 March 24_

_Gandalf has bade us to guard the creature and keep him in our dungeons under the earth. We still hope for his cure, that he may not fall back into his old black thoughts._

_Legolas_

Well guess what? I ignore the two weird entries and I write in my own in the journal. Currently, I am going through a phase on going green and trying to save the earth. Using this journal is just another attempt of mine on trying to reuse paper and save the trees. Besides, it's not as if the Legolas guy would come back and haunt me for using it.

_2 June 2008_

_Dear diary,_

_Grandma has come for the summer and she suddenly tells me I'm her favourite grandson. Not that I mind being her favourite, but I'm a __girl__!_

_I also found this old journal up in the attic today. It's empty except for two entries written by this guy called Legolas. I hope he wouldn't mind if I continue writing on it._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

I wake up early again the next morning. Grandma wants to go for her morning exercise at the nearby park and I have to accompany her. If you think this granny is a frail old lady, you've got it wrong.

Grandma has me chasing after her almost the entire time. It's either she's one hell of a super fit old lady or I'm seriously out of shape. I think it's the latter. I haven't exactly had time to keep my fitness after having to slog my brains off studying for the end of term exam. I'm probably going to get kicked off the cheerleading squad.

We arrive home just in time for breakfast and the rest of the day passes by in a whirl after my best friend Sam pulls me out to shop with her.

I return home later that night very exhausted. I take a glass of warm milk up to my room. It's a habit of mine to drink milk before bed. I take a sip as I flip the journal into a fresh page to start a new entry of the day's events. I nearly choke on my milk and spit it all out on the book after what I have just read.

_T.A. 3018 March 26_

_Dear Lady Isabelle,_

_I __do__ mind you using my journal. How you managed to come into my chambers still baffles me but I certainly do not appreciate you touching and going through __my__ things._

_I do not know if Isabelle is your real name for I have never heard of such a name. But be careful Lady Isabelle for I will not be so gentle with you should I catch you in my room next time. If this is a game or a prank to you, I suggest you stop immediately._

_Legolas_

The first thing that comes to my mind is 'THIS JOURNAL IS HAUNTED!' I quickly jump back and put a distance in between us.

'HE REPLIED! HE DOES MIND!' This is all I think off. I continue to stare at the journal, waiting for some ghost to jump out of it. I'm already ready to bolt for the door should a ghost really appear.

Well, nothing happens and I start to scold myself. Fancy me, all getting scared and worked up over a journal and letting this 'Legolas' guy push me around. Well, I'm no push over, ghost or no ghost. I'm stubborn this way. I'm not letting fear come in my way.

I pick up my pen and start writing.

**:::**

Legolas is frustrated. He does not know the elf who has sneaked inside his room and wrote in his journal. Legolas has stayed up the entire time to watch and stay guard. Yet the lady called 'Isabelle' has managed to sneak past him and write in his journal again.

_3 June 2008_

_Dear Mr Legolas,_

_I do not know what's up with you. Unless your 'chambers' is up in __MY__ attic, I did not trespass onto your territory. In fact, if you're really living in my attic, you're the one trespassing onto __mine__._

_BTW, Isabelle is a __real__ name. And FYI, I have never heard of 'Legolas' as well._

_Go haunt someone else's diary buddy and get your date right!_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

**A/N: **Hi everyone! What do you think of this? Do you think I should stick to the Third Age, War of the Ring for Legolas' time? Or should I change it to after the war where he's rebuilding Ithilien? I really want to know what you think. Any guesses on what happens next? Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Mr Tolkien owns all.

**:::**

Legolas is frustrated. He does not know the elf who has sneaked inside his room and wrote in his journal. Legolas has stayed up the entire time to watch and stay guard. Yet the lady called 'Isabelle' has managed to sneak past him and write in his journal again.

_3 June 2008_

_Dear Mr Legolas,_

_I do not know what's up with you. Unless your 'chambers' is up in __MY__ attic, I did not trespass onto your territory. In fact, if you're really living in my attic, you're the one trespassing onto __mine__._

_BTW, Isabelle is a __real__ name. And FYI, I have never heard of 'Legolas' as well._

_Go haunt someone else's diary buddy and get your date right!_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

Chapter 2

_T.A. 3018 April 1_

_Dear Lady Isabelle,_

_I do not find the game you are playing at all amusing. Please find someone else to entertain you. I do not know where your sense of manners lies but it is certainly not courteous to read and write on something so personal to another such as his journal._

_Legolas_

It is a week since Legolas has last written in his journal. He is pleased when he has seen no signs of the elleth who had thought of it as fun and written in his journal. There is no recent entry from her. Legolas has checked it many times over.

Just as he thinks she is gone for good, the journal in front of him glows slightly and the pages start flipping.

Legolas immediately reaches for his long knifes- the only weapons within reach. He wonders what magic is at work as he prepares himself for an attack.

Nothing happens. The journal has returned back to normal.

Fear keeps him on his guard but curiosity tells him to look at the journal. He sense no dark magic at work in the journal. Can this be the work of the Valar?

Turning the pages, he chances upon Lady Isabelle's newest reply.

_7 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_You're a ghost, which basically means you're dead. I don't see how me writing in this journal is called not courteous. Look, I've had a rough week. I fell off the roof while trying to sneak out and broke my right leg. I am now in a cast and have to hop and wobble on crutches for at least a month. On top of that, I am grounded for the next six months. My life officially sucks and I don't need you telling me to stop playing games and to learn my manners._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

My phone vibrates and I hop on one leg towards my desk. I do not bother using the crutches for such a short distance.

_Hey! You coming for Adam's party tonight?_ Sam messages me.

I contemplate for a while. Mum and Dad are away on a wedding dinner. If I go, I can come back before they do. I am about to reply a 'Yes definitely' when I remember about my babysitter.

My parents have probably told Grandma to keep an eye on me. I can try to sneak out like what I have been doing before all the time but with my broken leg, my movements are a little impaired. Unless I want to end up with one more leg broken, climbing down from the roof is not an option.

I place my phone in my pocket, grab my crutches and make my way downstairs. Grandma is watching TV in the living room.

"Andrea left some food, sweetie," Grandma tells me. Andrea is my mother's name. "Do you want me to heat it up?"

"No thanks, I'm good Grandma," I reply as I settle myself on the couch.

"You know, I was as wild as you when I was young," Grandma muses. She's in a story-telling mood. "Got into a lot of trouble too," at this, she chuckles. "I fell in love with someone I shouldn't have."

My ears immediately perk up and I send a quick message to Sam, telling her I can't make it. All this story telling is going to take all night.

"We were of different worlds," she says.

"And then what happened?" I prod.

"I met your grandfather."

Ok. I did not expect that. I thought it is going to be some happily-ever-after sappy love story. I hope it's not the end.

"Your grandfather was the kindest and most patient man I've ever met," she continues. "He loved me unconditionally, with all his heart and soul, and despite me loving another. I truly did not deserve him."

"So you did not love Grandpa?"

"Of course I loved your grandfather silly child! But not as much as I did with the other."

"Well what happened to him, the man you fell in love with at first? Why didn't you marry him?"

"We were of different worlds."

"So?"

"I wasn't ready; I wasn't prepared. I ran away."

"Oh..." He may have been a pauper or someone with low social background. Or maybe him and Grandma were like Romeo and Juliet? Our families were enemies.

"True love only comes by one time, child. When it comes to you, do not run away. Embrace it and never let go. Do not end up like me, regretting the choice that I made."

"But I thought you loved Grandpa. You regret marrying him?"

"I do not regret marrying your grandfather. I feel guilty hurting him, hurting everyone dear to me. But had I made a better choice, the three of us wouldn't have suffered needlessly."

"Had you made that choice, I wouldn't be born," I mutter. But it seems that she has heard me as she smiles back at me ruefully.

I return to my room and head straight for the drawer holding the journal. I have a tragic love story to write about and I hope Mr Ghost decides to live me alone. Of course, it is just my wishful thinking.

_T.A. 3018 April 9_

_Dear Lady Isabelle,_

_It has come to my knowledge that this journal is enchanted. Perhaps you are from a distant time than I for the dates you have written are strange to me as well. May I ask my lady which age you are from? I'm from the Third Age as you may have noticed._

_I hope you will forgive me for my earlier hostile behaviour. I'm terribly sorry to hear about your leg. I hope you rest well and to hear again from you soon._

_Legolas_

It looks like the ghost has a change of heart. Or maybe he's trying to trick me and wants to steal my body! Ok, pretend I did not just say that. I have a tendency to have a creative mind.

_10 June 2008_

_Dear Mr Legolas,_

_I hope you are not some evil ghost plotting something sinister. I have never heard of a Third Age. It must have been a very long time ago. I'm living in the twenty first century now._

_I hope you don't mind me asking but my curious mind wants to know. Why are you still around here? Shouldn't you have passed over the light or something? Or do you have unfinished business left to do?_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

**A/N: **Thank you everyone for reviewing! You all made my day! I didn't expect to get such a response. I tried to write on the rebuilding of Ithilien but it didn't work out so well. It taxed my brains too much. So I've decided to stick to this. Do prefer quick but short updates like this? Or slower but longer updates? Thanks for reading! Review if you like :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Mr Tolkien owns all.

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 April 15_

_Dear Lady Isabelle,_

_I'm afraid you have misunderstood me. I am no ghost but an elf from Mirkwood. I have not heard of the twenty first century. Perhaps it is very much in my distant future._

_I do not understand what you mean by having 'passed over the light'. Do you mean to ask me about taking the straight road and sail to the undying lands?_

_I have yet to hear the calls of the sea. Middle Earth still very much appeals to me. There is so many places I have yet to travel to and explore._

_I hope I have satisfied your curiosity for answers._

_Legolas_

Well, the first thought that comes to my mind is that this ghost is crazy _and _delusional. He is having trouble believing that he's dead and he thinks of himself as an elf.

Then, my mind shifts to other thoughts as I read the next paragraph. He mentions something about 'the undying lands'. Is that what he calls heaven?

I get all confused again as I continue reading the third paragraph. What Middle Earth is he talking about? He writes about the 'calls of the sea' and sailing earlier on. Maybe he was a sailor when he was alive.

As I reach out for a pen to write my reply, I knock over my jar of jellybeans and the majority of them falls over the journal. "Crap!" I mutter as I bend down underneath the table to retrieve the ones that have dropped onto the floor first.

I get up and just as I am about to clear the jellybeans off the journal, there is a sudden burst of orange light. I shield my eyes to protect myself from the blinding bright light.

Everything is back to normal within the next few seconds and I stare at the journal as if it has just grown legs and started walking. And it's no different really. All my jellybeans which were scattered over the journal less than a minute ago have just disappeared.

I let my imagination run wild again as I think of the different possibilities that can explain what has just happened.

One, the ghost is hungry and he decided to eat my jellybeans. That's how they all suddenly disappear.

Two, I'm the one who ate the jellybeans. My mind just made the whole thing up of the jellybeans spilling all over and then suddenly disappearing. That explains why I am suddenly short of half a bottle.

Or three. The ghost is telling the truth that he is no ghost. Somehow the journal is some way of communication between our different times and my jellybeans just happened to make their way across time to him.

Ok, I don't know where the third idea comes from. I wonder... Tom Riddle's diary? Ok. I am just going nuts now. It's probably because I'm watching too much Harry Potter. I think about Dobby and I imagine Mr Legolas as a poor little house elf, dressed in rags and skinny to the bone. Maybe he has an abusive wizard family. That can explain why he is so cranky the first time. I certainly cannot imagine him as Santa's elf. My first impression of Legolas is definitely not the joyous little green elf making toys at the North Pole.

**:::**

Legolas is cleaning his bow when he notices the journal on his desk glowing. He knows immediately what it means. The lady Isabelle has replied.

He turns the pages and to his surprise, a handful of small little colourful beans are nestled in between the pages of the journal. Curious, he picks one of them up. It is rather soft. He then brings it to his nose to smell. It has a scent of sweetness and of fruits. He wonders if it can be eaten.

He swipes the rest of the strange beans to the side of his desk and looks for the lady's newest entry.

_13 June 2008_

_Dear Mr Legolas,_

_It's really hard for me to believe you're an elf, unless you are trying to tell me that Harry Potter does exist and that you are some house elf working for some wizard family._

_Btw I lost some jellybeans and I'm very sure I didn't eat them. Did they happen to make their way somehow to you? If they did, you can eat them. Or else you can try sending them back to me._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

Legolas is feeling perplexed as usual. The lady Isabelle seems to always write strangely. He looks to the side where the unusual beans lay still. He picks up a yellow coloured one and puts it into his mouth. It is chewy and it taste like lemon except that it's sweet.

**:::**

I have just googled 'Third Age'. Nothing comes out on Mr Legolas' time though. Everything is on three year old babies. I google 'Middle Earth' next. Now guess what comes out? Everything about middle east. Finally, I google 'Mirkwood'. Well, what comes out is this: _Did you mean rosewood?_

I open the drawer and take out the journal.

_T.A. 3018 April 20_

_Dear Lady Isabelle,_

_I do not know of this 'Harry Potter' but I do know the wizard, Gandalf the Grey. Are you familiar him? I am not sure what you mean by an house elf. Your strange writing confounds me._

_Your beans have indeed made their way to me. I have yet to come across these type of beans before. The beans in my time are mostly green and their taste is anything but the sweet flavour of yours._

_I am trying to send you some beans from my time. I hope this works and that you are able to receive them._

_Legolas_

It is then when I notice a handful of green beans on the next page. Oh how thoughtful of him. I pick one up and examine it. It looks just like those you can find in the grocery store.

Maybe it will grow into a giant bean stalk like Jack's in the fairytale. After all, Legolas is an elf and the beans from his world could be magical.

_15 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_I hope you don't mind me excluding the 'Mr' in front of your name. You can exclude 'Lady' for me too when you write your reply later._

_I have not heard of Gandalf the Grey. I think I have come to a conclusion btw. We're not from different times. We're from different worlds altogether. You see, elves and wizards don't exist to normal people in my world. They're not real to us. We only read about them from stories._

_Maybe your world isn't like Harry Potter after all considering you don't know what's a house elf. Just fyi, Harry Potter is a series of books about a special boy wizard who has to save the world from a dark lord._

_Btw, I received the beans you have sent me. Are they magical beans? They look exactly like some of the beans we have in my world. I'm now trying to plant them to see if they'll grow into a giant bean stalk. The beans you got from my world are called jellybeans and they're not actual beans. They are just candy in the shape of a bean. Since you've tasted them, what's your favourite flavour? Mine is strawberry. If you want more of them, let me know and I'll get some for you._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

**A/N: **Thank you everyone for reviewing again! It's really nice to be acknowledged. Tell me if it's getting boring ok? So that I'll know when to pick up the pace and move on to my next set of plans for this story. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Mr Tolkien owns all.

**:::**

Chapter 4

_T.A. 2018 April 27_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_I do not mind at all. I am curious to know the meaning of 'btw' and 'fyi'. You have been using these two words quite often._

_It is indeed a revelation to learn of a different world. My world is similar to yours in a way that we are also plagued by a dark lord called Sauron._

_The beans I have sent you are not magical. I doubt they would grow very large. I myself have not seen magical beans before. I am fond of the yellow coloured bean which tastes of a sweet lemon. I thank you for your offer but I do not wish to burden you._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_19 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_Fyi and btw are short forms for 'for your information' and 'by the way'._

_And I think you misunderstand again. My world is not plagued by some dark lord or whatsoever. What I told you is just a story. It has never happened. My world is actually quite peaceful if you ask me. And I'm sorry to hear about your world._

_Don't lose hope! As they all say, there is always light at the end of the dark tunnel. I'm sure someone will come along and kick Sauron's butt._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 May 3_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_Thank you for enlightening me about those two words. It's good to know that your world is peaceful. And thank you for your words of encouragement and not to lose hope. Though I must comment, your choice of words are rather unusual._

_Can you enlighten me more about yourself? For instance, how many siblings do you have and what you like to do in your past time. I know it isn't fair of me to ask without introducing myself. So here, I shall start._

_As you have already known, I am Legolas from the woodlands realm. I am skilled with the bow and my favourite sport is to hunt. There are many forests here in Middle Earth and I long to explore them. I have no siblings and my mother has already sailed west to the undying lands._

_I would like to write more but I must stop here for my duties are calling me._

_Legolas_

**:::**

Well, it's been quite some time since I have kept this correspondence thing with Legolas. It's quite cool in a way. I haven't told anyone about him and the journal yet. It's not as if they'll believe me anyway. They'll probably think of me as crazy and lock me away inside a mental institution.

I read his latest entry earlier in the morning but I have not had the time to write my reply considering that Mummy barged immediately after and dragged me out for shopping.

I wobble back to my room in my crutches only see that Miss Muggles has somehow sneaked into my room. She is standing on some old book preparing to unleash her 'bomb'.

"No Miss Muggles!" I yell at her suddenly when I realise what she is about to do. The little Chihuahua is nothing but trouble.

I am too late.

**:::**

_23 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_Firstly, I AM REALLY SORRY about the little dropping that some how made its way to you! My nothing but trouble of a Chihuahua decided to do its litter on the journal. I hope you realised that it was dog poop and didn't try to eat it. Albeit, you must have smelt it at least. I doubt that you could have mistaken for chocolate and tried to it eat. My friend's younger brother mistook dog poop for chocolate once. But I suppose it's because he was a little dim-witted. _

_And now about myself. I'm the only child as well. I'm a cheerleader (though I seriously think I'm going to get kicked out from the squad very soon). I'm learning how to fence (that is, before I broke my leg). Basically, I'm just a normal teen going to college next year._

_And now I think I shall proceed to tell you what I can't do since I have more things to say this way._

_I'm terrible at cooking. I basically cannot cook to save my life. Ok, maybe I can. I can probably poison the enemy with my cooking. _

_I cannot sew. I cannot use a needle without jabbing my fingers with it. And I can't use the sewing machine either. I cannot sew a straight line without going crooked every centimeter._

_Well, I would like to tell you more about how I'm the epitome of a failed woman in the middle ages, but I really have to go._

_I'm sorry to hear about your mother. Though I have not experienced losing a member of my family, I have lost a dear friend to an accident. But it happened such a long time ago that I hardly can remember him anymore. Do you ever feel that way sometimes?_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 May 12_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_Rest assure that I did not eat your dog's dung. Though I was tempted to try it for I had thought it to be an unusual delicacy from your world, it's pungent smell was enough for me to be deterred. I am curious to know what is a chocolate. Is it a well known food in your world?_

_I am not familiar with the term 'fencing'. What does a 'cheerleader' do? Are you a captain that leads in cheering? What an odd job you have in your world. We too have captains but they lead in battles and not in cheering. _

_As for your cooking, surely you can't be that dangerous that you can poison people with your cooking? I shudder to think of the consequences should I accidentally eat the food that you made._

_I suppose not everyone is gifted at cooking or sewing. Please do not be disheartened. I am mediocre when it comes to sewing. My stitches aren't very good but they are considerably neat. _

_I am sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. I suppose our feelings of lost is different because my mother is not truly lost but merely has sailed to the undying lands. I will still see her when I decide to sail off. I still remember my mother quite well. Compared to humans, we elves have long memories._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_25 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_That's a pretty sad world you're living in. You've never heard of chocolates? Well, chocolates are... chocolates. You'll know when you try the ones I am going to send you. Do not eat the packaging ok? Just eat the brown bars inside the wrapper._

_Ok, lesson number two (chocolates are lesson number one). Fencing is a form of sword fighting. I'm not the captain of the squad, Taylor is. We call ourselves cheerleaders even if we're not the captain. _

_I am actually quite surprised that you can sew. I mean, not many men in my world can sew. And yet you, who's living in the stone age, can! Don't take this as an insult ok. I'm just... pleasantly surprised! Maybe you can give me a few pointers. I have tried cross stitching once. Besides poking myself all the time with the needle, I have completely massacred the picture I was supposed to stitch out._

_Ok, I'm a little lost about your undying lands. You mean heaven right? Oh gosh! You won't do anything stupid will you? You won't try to kill yourself just to see your mother right? I mean, suicide is never the answer to anything. Just think about your father and friends! They'll be crushed when they hear about your death! Oh! Don't try to kill yourself ok? Just... talk to your father... visit a psychiatrist... take drugs... ANYTHING! Ok. I think you get my point. Just some advice: Stay away from high places and sharp and pointy things!_

_Love, _

_Isabelle_

**:::**

It had been a rather eventful day for Legolas. He and his company had encountered a giant spider during their patrols. As he approached his chambers, he heard the light ringing of bells in his chambers. Notching an arrow out from his quiver, he cautiously opened the door.

A creature with its mouth stained with a dark brown, almost red, liquid was waiting for him. It growled ferociously before making a lunge after Legolas.

**:::**

**A/N: **Revised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Di****sclaimer: **Mr Tolkien owns all.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO MY CO-AUTHOR AND BETA: Cheesecake-and-Pengins**

**This chapter is for you!**

**:::**

Chapter 5

_26 June 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_Omg! Are you still alive? Oh gosh! You didn't really try to kill yourself did you? I know I have just written to you yesterday but I had to check. I'm really worried! But that's not all I wanted to tell you; Miss Muggles, our dog, has run away. Mum's really upset as Miss Muggles was supposed to be in a competition next week. We've already put up notices around the neighbourhood, so hopefully we'll find her soon._

_It's good news for you though, at least you won't find dog poop in the journal any time soon. And have you tried the chocolates? They're really good! Whenever I'm sad or downright depressed, chocolates and other sweet stuff usually cheer me up. So I hope the chocolates will cheer you up as well._

_Love,_

_Isabelle  
><em>  
>Legolas read the latest entries from Isabelle with interest. So the little fur-less creature was what they call a dog in her world, he thought amused. He had assumed that the small animal that had attacked him, or at least tried to, to be Miss Muggles; what other explanation was there? But he had never seen such a breed before. Looking towards the now harmless animal currently sleeping on his bed he frowned at her, she had eaten all his chocolates! The question now however was how to send Miss Muggles back to Isabelle? Isabelle; had she truly believed that he was thinking of taking his own life? Some of the things she had written were a little confusing as he had not yet gotten used to her particular way of speaking, maybe she thought the same of his writing. He had probably given her the idea unintentionally.<p>

_T.A. May 20_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_There is no need for you to worry as I neither dead or planning to kill myself, you must have misunderstood me somehow. I bring good news to you; Miss Muggles has been found! She is with me, here in Mirkwood. She is a fur-less little creature isn't she? I suspect she has through the journal by the same means as your gifts and I will do my best to send her back to you. I have not had the pleasure of tasting the chocolates you have sent me as Miss Muggles has unfortunately beaten me to them and ate the lot._

_As for sewing, I am not sure what pointers you would like me to give you. For myself and others I know, the basic mending of clothes and the stitching of wounds are skills that are integral to our daily life. We are in the shadow of war and we do not have the time and luxury to send our clothes to a tailor or seamstress. We do have healers to tend to the wounded but for minor injuries that we can fix ourselves, we would rather not bother them._

_Legolas  
><em>

**:::  
><strong>  
>I feel about ready to jump for joy (figuratively speaking of course since my leg's still in a cast) when I've read that Miss Muggles has been found. Of course, I can't tell Mum that the Chihuahua's in Mirkwood with an Elf, but at least I don't have to hop around the neighbourhood aimlessly looking for our troublesome little friend.<p>

"Belle!"

Great, mum's calling me again. I guess Legolas has to wait as I can't reply to him now. Putting the journal away, I make my way downstairs.

"Are you ready? Shall we go?" She asks expectantly, earning her a blank look. "To the pound! Remember? There's a chance we'll find Miss Muggles there!"

Right, the pound. It's going to be a futile trip as Miss Muggles is safe with Legolas, but of course Mum doesn't know that, and it's not a conversation we're likely to have soon. I suppose I'll just have to go along with her and act involved. It's about an hour drive to the city pound, which is nothing more than a small, square building made of dirty looking bricks in the outskirts of the city.

As we enter the office, one of the men working there soon comes up to us and leads us further into the building. He takes us through a vault-like metal door that once it has opened, emits a huge wave of thunderous barks and a terrible stench that almost makes me gag. I know dogs do not smell particularly nice but the smell in the compartment is a little over-bearing. I look at the dogs from the safety of the metal bars that separate us and recoil a little as they do not look one bit friendly with their canine teeth exposed and glaring at me as if I'm lunch. It's good to know I'll make a good meal. I hurry as fast as I can to where Mum and the man have stopped at a cell holding the smaller dogs.

"There she is!" Mum exclaims. I get a little shock at her outburst considering that I know Miss Muggles to be in Mirkwood with Legolas and peer intently into the cell to try and see what she does.

"Are you sure lady?" the man asks, his voice heavily accented.

I watch as Mum looks back at the cage in concentration and find myself finally looking at the same thing. It's a white Chihuahua alright, but not Miss Muggles. It is a fruitless trip after all. We return back to the house and I go back to my room to resume my correspondence with Legolas.

My room looks particularly empty and I remember that Daddy has said that he would help me in bringing down the boxes to be given away to charity. I walk to my desk to retrieve the journal but the old leather bound book is nowhere to be found. Now where did I put it? I think in exasperation as I hop towards my bed and crouch down, with extreme difficulty. There is some loose flooring there and I remove one the slats to reveal a hidden gap. Strange, it's empty; it's not in there either. Realisation of what may have happened hits me like a brick and I cry out in horror.

"Oh no!" Quickly, I dash out of my room, calling loudly as I go, "DADDY!"

"What is it my sweet?" he asks as he comes out from his room.

"Have you seen an old journal?" I ask him frantically.

"You mean a leather bound one with yellow pages?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, isn't it part of the things to be given away?"

No. Oh no. Oh ** oh holy crap, this cannot be happening!

"DAD!"

**:::**

Now here I am at the charity foundation centre. A lady leads me into a room filled with cardboard boxes that seem to form an impenetrable wall. There are a few people picking things out such as clothes and cooking utensils, but the place is relatively empty.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," she says, "there are other rooms over there. Maybe you should check those boxes in there first. We've placed the most recent arrivals there."

I thank her and make my way to the adjourning rooms. It's literally like finding a needle in the haystack as there seem to be books, and everything else in the world, everywhere! It will take days if not weeks just to go through the things in one room.

It's evening by the time I've cleared a quarter of the room and I am beyond exhausted. In the end, I give up and return home.

**:::**

Three days later, there's still no news of a Chihuahua on the loose at the centre so I'm assuming one of two things; either Legolas has not managed to send Miss Muggles back for whatever reason, or he has managed to but someone has already picked up the journal and it's no longer at the centre. The second one will just be awesome. I will not only have wasted three days of my life but I may have lost my dog as well. I realise that the longer I take to find the journal, the higher the possibility I'll never find it again. 

I mean, people come day-in, day-out to bring home some of the things found in the centre, the chances are definitely not on my side.

Just as I am about to retire for the day, my eyes catch sight of a little girl with two ponytails trailing down her back and an old book clasped firmly in her hands. An old book with a brown leather cover, yellow, ageing paper and the name 'Legolas' engraved on the back.

IT'S THE JOURNAL! I think ecstatically, finding it hard to stop the huge grin that is fighting its way onto my face. It's as if I can see the sunlight pouring into the room to land on the journal in her hands and hear the choir singing the 'Alleluia' chorus. I practically fly over to the girl and fix a sweet smile on my face before tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hey little girl," I begin, "I think that book is mine. You see, I accidentally placed it on the things I'm supposed to give away. It's not meant to be here though." I stretch my hands expectantly towards her but she only looked between me and the journal before smiling at me and sticking out her tongue.

"Finders keepers, losers weepers!" She recited in a sing-song voice.

Trying to keep my smile in place and be patient with her, I tried to reason with her. "But it belongs to me in the first place."

"Too bad. It's mine now."

It's taking me all I can now not to pounce on the little munchkin. "But there's so many other better books down here." I say, picking up a pink glittery book and passing it to her to see. "See? Isn't this better? You don't want that old book, do you?"

"Nah, I prefer this book so I think I'm going to keep it." This girl is testing my patience. I have never liked children and I doubt I will start liking them now.

"Then, how about a trade. I'll give you anything you want for this journal."

She contemplates this for a while, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Alright, I want fifty."

"What?"

"I want fifty pounds." This girl sure drives a hard bargain. No, what am I talking about? This is extortion! No one pays fifty pounds for an old journal, especially if it's theirs in the first place!

"Five pounds," I make my own offer.

"Sixty pounds." What? Did she just raise her price? "Sixty," she repeats, "take it or leave it."

"Look here pipsqueak. This is_ my_ journal and I am not going to pay you for something that belongs to _me_ in the first place," I say menacingly as I grab hold of one end of the journal.

"No, it's mine!" she says with an equal amount of menace. Oh how I hate children!

"Let go!" I say through gritted teeth as I pull the journal towards me.

"No, you let go!" She demands as she pulls it back towards her.

"This is my journal!"

"No, it's mine! I found it first!"

"I found it first! It's mine to begin with!"

"Let go!" She cries.

"_You_ let go!"

Suddenly, there's a small ripping sound and we both immediately look down to check on our clothes. Nothing, thank goodness, but my relief is short lived.

"The journal's going to rip apart if you don't let go!" I tell her exasperated.

"Why don't you let go!" She retorts, stubbornly.

We pull hard , both at opposite directions. I hear a full ripping sound and I find myself flinging backwards, with a piece of the journal in my hands.

We pull hard once more, both tugging in opposite directions as we fight for control. I hear another ripping sound and I abruptly find myself flying backwards, a piece of the journal still gripped tightly in one of my hands.

**:::**

**A/N: **I've edited the previous chapter because I realised the story does not flow. It was not a very major change. Anyway, thank you guys for leaving your reviews! I've never received so many in my life! Thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**  
><em><br>4 July 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_I really hope this comes through to you. You see, something happened and the journal was ripped in half. I have taped it back together now, but I'm not sure if its magic still works. I'm really glad to know that Miss Muggles is safe with you. I hope she's not too much trouble._

_I hope you are safe and alright. Are you fighting in the war too? I'm sending you more chocolates. I heard that chocolates are part of a soldier's food ration if there's ever a war here in my world. You see, they're a quick source of energy and they can last longer than most food. Try not to let Miss Muggles eat them. She tends to become a little hyper active when she eats chocolates._

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

_15 July 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_It's been nearly two weeks and you haven't replied. I doubt you have received my previous entry in the first place. The chocolates that I tried sending to you are still stuck in between the pages of the journal. Unless the journal has mood swings, I guess its magic really is gone forever now._

_I have finally been able to remove my leg cast. I got it removed yesterday. My right leg feels kinda funny. I think all the muscles in it have turned into flabs. Well, I have got to go now. I'm off for a run. I've got to get my fitness back if I want to remain in the squad._

_Love,_

_Isabelle  
><em>  
>"Come on!" I glare at the patched up journal lying idly on my desk. "Abracadabra! Alakazam! Hocus-pocus!"<p>

Nothing. Nothing happens.

Argh! That horrid little brat...that nasty little monster...that no good munchkin! That girl is practically the devil's spawn reincarnate! How I hate her, this is all her fault!

Poor Miss Muggles. If the journal's gone for good, then Miss Muggles can never come back. She'll be stuck in a world with no chocolates! How is she going to survive?!

While I am ranting away, the journal suddenly comes to life and floats in mid-air. I jump up from my seat in surprise and watch as the journal finally settles down. The journal drops onto the table with a thud sound. For a few seconds, I simply stare at the journal. Speaking of magic words, they really do work!

_T.A. 3018 June 22_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_I am glad to finally hear news from you after so long. I have been worried but nevertheless, news from you is better late than never. There is nothing to fear now for the enchantment of the journal is not lost. Worry not for Miss Muggles for she has been well looked after._

_Unfortunately in these dark times, almost everyone is involved in the war, me included. I have received the chocolates you write so fondly of. Never have I come across such strange food but nevertheless I have enjoyed them tremendously._

_I must apologise for this brief reply for Gollum has escaped recently. I must go with the guards to track him down. I will write to you again when I am able to. Please take care._

_Legolas  
><em> 

**:::**

_20 July 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_YOU REPLIED! YAY! The journal is working again! Phew. I thought you and Miss Muggles were gone for good. I think you mentioned this Gollum before in your previous entries. How did he escape anyway? Whatever you're doing sounds dangerous to me. You have to be careful. I really can't imagine what's going on in your world. It sounds really scary._

_I feel really lucky now to be living in the twenty first century. It's relatively peaceful here. For most people, well those of my age anyway, our main concerns are good grades and a bunch of other stuff which are non-too life threatening. Anyway, I wish you luck! Take care as well!_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 July 2_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_It's been nearly a week since the escape of Gotham and we have yet to recapture him. We fear that he may have fallen into the Enemy's hand._

_It was that very night of summer, yet moonless and starless, that Orcs came on us at unawares. We drove them off after some time; they were many and fierce, but they came from over the mountains, and were unused to the woods. When the battle was over, we found that Gollum was gone, and his guards were slain or taken. It then seemed plain to us that the attack had been made for his rescue, and that he knew of it beforehand. How that was contrived we cannot guess; but Gollum is cunning, and the spies of the Enemy are many. (1)_

_You are very lucky indeed, Isabelle. I can only seek the comfort that you, my friend, are away from harm. It gladdens my heart to know you are well. Perhaps the day will come when there will be shadows no more and the enemy destroyed. Perhaps you could even come to Mirkwood and see the beauty of my realm that has not been marred by the darkness. And till then, take care my friend._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_24 July 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_I don't know if you have heard of this saying but there's always a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Ok, that is totally random. I just couldn't think of anything else to cheer you up. Chocolates and ice cream always cheer me up, so I'm sending you more chocolates. Have you ever heard of ice cream before? I don't think I can send you those though. They melt really fast. Unless you have a refrigerator or something over there._

_You know, you really make me wonder how your world is like. I mean, your way of writing is really weird. It sounds like the olden days kind of writing. Hmm… Maybe you are from the past. Is there electricity in your time?_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 July 5_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_Thank you for the chocolates you have so graciously sent to me. I really appreciate your attempts in trying to cheer me up. I have never heard of 'ice cream', 'refrigerator' or 'electricity'. What are they?_

_Night has fallen and I write to you as I take the first watch. I often think about you, my friend. Tell me, how do the folks of your realm look like? You said that elves and wizards exist only in the tales of your realm. Do you belong to the race of man?_

_Legolas_

**:::**

_30 July 2008_

_Dear Legolas,_

_I have come to the conclusion that you have indeed come from the Stone Age. That's pretty sad. I mean, I guess it isn't sad for you since you don't know what you're missing. I'm a human. I have two legs, two arms and one head. That probably doesn't say much. I belong to the race of man as you term it. But we don't call ourselves that. We call ourselves 'people' or 'humans'._

_Anyway, I've enclosed a picture of me with this entry. Brilliant right? I know! Why didn't I think of this sooner? So now you know how I look like. I don't look much different from the mankind of your world, do I?_

_Love,_

_Isabelle_

_PS: What type of pen do you use? I like how your ink flows. It looks like one of those ancient pens. Actually come to think of it, you probably are using one of those._

I place the journal down on my desk and put on my socks and track shoes. I'm going for a run; I've got to get my fitness up.

Just as I am about to leave my room, the glowing of the journal catches my attention. The pages are coming to life once more. Just as I think that it's going to be over soon, a blinding light surges forward and I quickly shut my eyes. What is it now?

When I open my eyes, I am lying on the ground surrounded by trees, lots of trees. I sit up and find the journal beside me. I am no longer in my room and I'm now in the middle of a forest wearing my sweat-suit. How did I come here?

I look down at the obvious answer, the old book that lies idle on the ground.

Great. Where am I?

A thought strikes me.

Oh no. No, no, no. This _cannot_ be happening. I'm not in– well– whichever land Legolas comes from. Of course not. This is ridiculous. The journal couldn't have sent me.

I stand up and pick up the journal. I'm going to find my way home, somehow. I just need my phone or a GPS, which I have neither at the moment. But it doesn't matter. I'm probably just in some park not too far away from my house. I just need to… Well, what do people do when they are lost?

I lose my train of thoughts as an arrow whizzes past my ear and lands on a tree trunk.

It takes a few seconds for my brain to restart and realise what is going on.

Meanwhile, ugly people start appearing from the trees. Actually, I shouldn't even be calling them people. They don't look very human. They look more monster than human. And growls are ripping through their throats.

It is at this moment that I realise that I should be scared. Actually, make that terrified. Luckily for me, self-preservation kicks in and I make a dash across the forest, all the while screaming like a banshee. The journal is still tucked safely under my arm.

So much for a light jog around the neighbourhood, I'm now running for my life in some forsaken forest. Those creatures are chasing after me with clubs and machetes!

I start crying. Oh my gosh. This is not how I want to die. I don't want to be butchered and eaten for supper! These mean creatures look like they eat humans, especially young girls! Please, please, please! I pray to all the gods I can think of. I don't want to die.

Suddenly, I find myself tripping over something and rolling down a hill. The journal slips from my grasp. There's another surge of bright light and before I know it, I'm back in my room, sprawled across the floor and panting very heavily.

**:::**

A/N: Ok so sorry for the long break. Hopefully I won't take as long to update the next chapter. Anyway, chocolates are supposedly fatal to dogs. But let's pretend here that they are not. Thank you for reading!

Taken from Yahoo answers who said that it was taken from the LOTR books. I just lifted the chunk.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The following journal entries are all written by Legolas. I am so sorry for the one year hiatus! Hope my readers out there will continue to enjoy reading this story. Thank you everyone who has reviewed/PMed and has been waiting patiently for the update. I would like to know your thoughts on this chapter whether or not I have disappointed you. Enjoy!**

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 July 10_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_I must clear the misunderstanding. I do not come from the Stone Age. It is the Third Age now in my realm. I do not quite understand your last words. Do you mean to ask how we make the ink?_

_I am most curious of the picture you had sent to me. I must admit that it had unnerved me when I first saw it. It looked too real that I had thought you trapped in the mirror. What kind of parchment did you use for your picture? I have never seen such polished parchment with its edges as clear as water. I find it most peculiar._

_How I wish I too could send you a portrait of myself. But as circumstances would have it, I do not have one with me. We are still in the hunt for Gollum. I pray to the Valar that we will find him soon._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 July 25_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_I am glad to hear from you. I am most amazed with the picture you have sent me. You are correct. It does not fall into ruin upon touching water. I do not understand what you mean by 'laminating' the picture, but I can only imagine what other wonders your world has. Perhaps one day I could visit it._

_I cannot do magic though I'm certain my wizard friend Gandalf the Grey can. I have not heard of unicorns but there are dragons in Middle Earth. They are ancient and powerful. What about in your realm? Do you have dragons and the unicorns you write of?_

_Legolas_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 August 13_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_Our attempts to search for Gollum have all but in vain. All traces of him are lost. Perhaps what we have feared the most had come to pass: Gollum has fallen into the enemy's hand. I am now to be sent to Imaldris and warn Lord Elrond. I must make haste and prepare for my journey. I apologise for this brief letter. I will find time to write again. Do take good care my friend._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 October 25_

_Dear Isabelle,_

_Today held the secret Council of Elrond and I trust you my dear friend that you will keep this to yourself. The One Ring has been found and the Fellowship of the Ring was formed to destroy the Ring. I gave my allegiance and my life to the Fellowship. Nine of us shall walk into the pits of Mordor to destroy the Ring. My friends Aragorn son of Arathorn and Gandalf the Grey join me. The other six members of the Fellowship included four halflings, Boromir of Gondor and a dwarf. I am most apprehensive about traveling with the dwarf. My kin and dwarfs do not get along. There had been past grievances between our races. I would save the tales for a later time. I must stop this letter here._

_Legolas_

**:::**

_T.A. 3018 December 24 _

_Dear Isabelle,_

_We depart Imaldris tomorrow. How fares your holiday in Switzerland? Skiing sounds like a fun sport. Perhaps one day I would get to try it. I will bring the journal with me so that we can continue our correspondence. I enjoy immensely writing to you and hearing all about your world. Thank you for this 'ballpoint pen' you have sent to me. It is most convenient. I do not have to bring a bottle of ink anymore. Your people are brilliant to come up with a quill that requires no ink. I will try my best, though I cannot promise, to write regularly to you. The journey we are embarking on is long and precarious. But fear not my friend. I will be careful and take care._

_Legolas_

**:::**

It takes me weeks, literally, to get over what has happened and convince myself to go near the journal again. After that traumatising experience, I buried the journal six feet underground in the backyard. It is only after I have convinced myself that I imagined that whole escapade in the forest that I go back to retrieve it.

I probably look ridiculous, with the garden shovel in one hand and tongs in the other. I dig out the shoebox and using the tongs, I push away the lid and prod the journal with the jagged tip, meanwhile maintain my distance.

Ok. Nothing weird is happening. That's good. Using the tongs, I flip the journal open to the latest entry.

**:::**

Ok, so I was not expecting this to happen again. Seriously, I should have gone with my gut feelings last time and disposed of this wretched journal. But no, I didn't. So here I am now, stuck in the middle of nowhere. I just hope I am luckier now than the last time I was in Middle Earth. I really hope I have not landed in some monster-infested forest. I mean, being chased after by smelly creatures who want me for dinner is no fun thing- it's absolutely terrifying!

"Ok journal." If anyone had seen me now, he or she would think I've gotten mental, talking to an old book. "Take me home now."

Nothing happens.

"Come on!" I say in frustration. "Are you waiting for someone to come along and chase after me with an axe before you finally decide to let me go back?"

Again, no response.

Blasted journal! I would have burnt this bloody journal by now if it wasn't the only thing that can send me home.

Suddenly, I hear a twig breaking. I look up and true enough, my man with the axe is waiting for me!

I do what any normal girl in my situation would do. I scream.

It is bad move on my part. The hairy man screamed too! Holding his axe, he takes a step closer to me.

Run! Stupid girl run! I tell myself. He has an axe and I've only got a journal in my hands. What do I do? Smack him with it?

Well, I do another idiotic move. I throw the journal at him. It's a really smart move in my part to throw away my only ride home. If anything, I think it has only made him angrier. He grunts as he raises his axe towards me.

I freeze.

"Tis strange for a girl to be so far from home." Suddenly, another man – a rather large and scrubby looking one with 'kidnapper' written all over his face – appears from nowhere.

Nowhere? Seriously? Who am I kidding? _I_ just popped in the middle of nowhere.

"Who are you?" he says as he slowly moves closer to me. "Are you a friend or a foe? Give me a reason not to hurt you."

I take a step back as he moves closer to me. He's got one of those medieval swords with him. My mind is screaming, "Run! Run from the lunatics!" But a tiny voice at the back of my head reasons logically as it weighs my options. I can outrun and outlast the stout one with the axe. As for the other man, I would probably need a fifteen minutes head start, at least.

Just as I think that it is all over and I am going to die, a third person cuts in. 

"Daro! Stop! Do not harm her Boromir!"

Before my brain can fully comprehend the situation, a man with long blonde hair jumps in front of me with a pair of long knifes drawn.

I know it's rather silly of me think this way but it seems that blondie here is trying to protect me.

"Such foolishness Master Elf! Turning your back on who could be the enemy!"

"She is no foe Boromir. She is Isabelle, a friend of mine!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ok, so my life sucks. I get it.

No. Wait.

Actually, I _don't_.

How does a ski trip to Switzerland turn out to be a trip to Middle Earth? Really? Come on! As if the trip here the first time had been anything but sunshine and daisies. Well, it's granted though that the second time here is not a total disaster. This time round I only have two men who tries to kill me – err a man and a dwarf – unlike the last time with that army of awful creatures.

On the plus side, I finally get to meet Legolas. If it hadn't been for him, my body would have been sent home in pieces. So I guess I do owe Legolas an eternal life of gratitude. It has been a good thing that he recognised me when he did. Although I don't know what surprises me more – him not being Dobby the three foot house elf or him being this insanely surreal and unearthly being.

And did I mention that I have to follow them on their perilous journey? Or at least until we reach the nearest civilisation where they can deposit me. That or when the journal finally decides to bring me back home, whichever comes first. And judging the way the journal seems to be throwing a tantrum, I reckon I'll have better luck with the former.

I don't think the companions of Legolas like me very much. But mostly I think it's only the two who tried to kill me just now. It doesn't bother me very much since I do not like them either. The man by the name of Boromir looks at me as though I am going to murder him in his sleep – albeit that doesn't seem like such a bad idea. The dwarf is haughty and rude and he just about grumbles every step of the way to Mount Doom. The rest of the fellowship, however, seems to be pleasant enough.

Dumbledore – I mean Gandalf – is a slave driver. For an old man, he sure is very fit. He keeps us walking for nearly the _entire_ time I've been in Middle Earth. The first two hours of walking has been alright. I've been walking alongside Legolas while he shares more about Middle Earth with me. By the fourth or fifth hour, I have been trailing towards the back of the fellowship. I have my eyes set on the only pony. It probably has enough on its back carrying most of the supplies, but surely a little more load won't kill it? I mean, I don't think I'm _that_ heavy.

"This is old Bill," one of the midgets pipes. Oh, it's the chubby one, the one named Sam. He's a hobbit or a Halfling, or so Legolas tells me. "He's a very loyal pony; he's been with us since Bree," Sam says as he strokes the animal's mane affectionately. "I worry for him. He's very old."

Ah huh. Is chubby here trying to hint something? Does that mean I can't ride on the pony anymore?

Chubby here gives me an all knowing rueful smile. As if, he knows what I'm thinking of! Dang it!

We continue travelling on foot until nightfall, stopping occasionally for a quick rest. When I am not struggling to catch up with the mismatched group, I am trying to coach the journal into taking me home.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity of walking, they start pitching camp at a small clearing in the forest. As the others work in what has obviously become a routine, I settle myself on top of a boulder, massaging – pounding really – my aching calf muscles.

Sam starts cooking the rabbit Aragorn caught earlier and I look away. _Eww eww gross gross gross gross gross!_ That's totally gross! And poor Thumper! I ain't eating Bambi's friend for dinner tonight.

Or so I say until Sam comes over with a bowl of freshly cooked rabbit stew. Between my growling stomach and piping hot food, Thumper doesn't stand a chance.

Finally full with a stomach filled with Thumper meat in my belly – trust me, I'm feeling the guilt – I open the journal and start flipping through the pages randomly. I probably look utterly insane glaring at an inanimate object and trying to _will_ it to work. My one sided staring contest continues until most of the fellowship starts to unroll their sleeping bags.

Great. I think in dismay. I have not had the time exactly to pack a list of camping supplies before I was whisked away into middle-hell. I open my small backpack and dig through. Maybe if I wish hard enough, I can pull a sleeping bag out of the bag.

No such luck. Or magic that is.

But there _is_ an insanely good looking and charming elf. Legolas glides over to me and passes me a bundle. "It's a bed roll," he explains.

And the moon light shines down upon Legolas as I hear the choir of angels singing the halleluiah chorus. "HALLELUIAH! HALLELUIAH!"

And then of course the music stops and I remember my manners. Drats.

"But what about you?"

"I'm taking first watch. I do not need it."

Phew. Yes. Yippee.

"Ok! Thanks!" I hardly hesitate as I try to conceal my glee. No sleeping on dirty old ground tonight.

Actually, there is no sleeping tonight at all. The infernal dwarf snores like a swine while everyone else surrounding him have come together to a play an orchestra of snores.

"_Snooooort… Snort, snort! Snort, snort! Snooooort… Snort, snort!_"

I flip over to the side as I try to block the sound out with my arms.

"_Snort, snort!_"

It's real a wonder how the bad guys haven't found us yet. I mean, how can their infernal snoring not lead the enemies straight to us?!

I continue twisting and turning on the bed roll, attracting the attention of no one but my good friend the elf.

"Is everything well, Isabelle?" Legolas is suddenly beside me.

Talking about twinkle toes? I do not even hear him approach! How does he move so quietly and in the dark?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell him. He nods – or at least I think I see him nodding, you can't really see with so little light – before resuming his earlier post.

I start counting sheep. I reach the three hundred and the forty-seventh sheep before I give up.

Jumping out of the sleeping bag, I make my way to where Legolas is keeping watch.

"Would you care for some company?" I ask him. "I can't really sleep," I shrug.

He swiftly moves aside and pats the spot next to him.

As I sit down next to a root of a tree, a cloak suddenly drapes across my shoulders. I look up and see Legolas fastening the cloak securely on me.

"Thanks," I whisper.

"It's a cold night," he replies.

We continue to sit down quietly, no one volunteering to break the silence. The snoring of the others soon fades into the background as I try to help with guard duty. I try to hear for anything that does not sound remotely like a snore as I also try to look around for anything suspicious.

"The journal works in strange ways," Legolas suddenly speaks. He takes out the journal – _his_ journal – and gives it to me. I take both or our copies and try to compare it.

While his journal looks weary from his travels, my journal looks weary from age.

"But I would not have met you otherwise," he continues as his fingers reaches out and trails along the edges of my copy. "Do you think you can get back home? Both journals were in our respective worlds when we corresponded then. But now both journals are here."

"Actually… I don't think this is the first time I've been here." I hurry to correct myself, "I mean, this is not the first time that _this_ happened."

He looks at me confused and I hurry to explain.

"I've been here before, to Middle Earth. I thought I was dreaming then. But I'm quite sure now that I wasn't. Do you remember the second time I took a longer time to respond?"

"Yes, but I did not think much of it then. What happened?"

"Well, somehow the journal took me for a little field trip. I landed in some monster infested forest. The journal brought me back home almost as soon as it brought me there. But I got scared and well, I kinda refused to touch the journal afterwards for a few days. It was only when I had convinced myself that I was dreaming that I resumed writing to you."

"Monster infested forest? Can you describe to me the monsters? Or perhaps did you notice anything special about the forest?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have the time to view the scenery then. But as for the monsters, well there were ugly and filthy. They resembled severely disfigured men and it was as though they had bathed in tar. They were just really repulsive anyhow." I almost shiver. Just bringing back memories of that time has given me goose pimples.

"Yrch," he almost spits out.

"What?"

"Orcs. Those creatures that you speak of, they are most likely to be Orcs." His look of disgust suddenly morphs into one who's looking utterly disturbed. "They could have killed you!" he exclaims in horror.

No kidding Sherlock, they were charging after me with clubs and axes. I almost roll my eyes and say that bit out loud. I know Legolas probably will not appreciate my humour.

So I say instead, "Yeah, I kinda had it figured out almost immediately that they were out to kill me. But the journal brought me back home almost as fast as it brought me there in the first place."

"Do not misunderstand me Isabelle. I am most glad to meet you, but I fear for your safety. Middle Earth is no longer safe as it once was. You have come at a wrong time"

"I know. If I could, I would have chosen a better time," I sigh. At least Miss Muggles is probably at a better place… My mind suddenly wonders randomly to my little Chihuahua.

Speaking of which… I wonder what she is up to.

"Miss Muggles!" I suddenly exclaim. If Legolas is here, but Miss Muggles is not, then who is taking care of her?!

"Miss Muggles is safe at my home in Mirkwood," Legolas assures me. "Do not worry. My kin is taking care of her. I could not bring her with me on our journey."

"Oh," I suddenly feel dumb. "Right. Good call."

I imagine Miss Muggles living the high life: getting pampered by elves, sleeping in a nice comfy bed, having a bubble bath… How I wish we can switch places.

My fantasy of course gets interrupted by Legolas. Nothing good lasts out here.

"I know you have difficulty finding sleep. But you have to rest or you will not have the energy for tomorrow." Legolas moves quietly and quickly in the dark. He takes my sleeping bag and lays it as far away as possible from the snoring men.

I trudge reluctantly after him. I don't want to continue walking tomorrow. I don't want to be on this bloody journey.

As I crawl my way into the sleeping bag, Legolas sits beside me and pulls the cover over me.

"Close your eyes and think of your favourite place," he instructs me.

I do as he say as I imagine myself in my bedroom, lying with my limbs spread out like a starfish. I start hearing a pleasant hum as it lulls me to sleep.

I dream that night. It is a pleasant dream. I dream of home, of returning back, of waking up on my own bed. It is a good dream. And I smile as I float away in dreamland.

"Sleep well, Isabelle," I hear a faint voice.

**:::**

Of course, I have not expected to be stuck here for so long. But what do I know?

Nothing. Obviously, I know _nothing. _It's day two and I'm as miserable as ever. I almost have just about enough. When I do go home – in the back of my mind I'm thinking _if_ I ever – incinerating the bloody journal into ashes will be the first thing I'll do. Goodbye Legolas. I have nothing against you but as much as it has been fun knowing you, it's just not worth the trouble.

As much as I hate being here, I have to admit, the scenery here in Middle Earth is breath taking. I nearly forget how tired and out of breath I am when we climb up the hills with snow-capped mountains in the backdrop.

"We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the gap of Rohan will be…" I do not hear the rest of what Dumbledore says. My mind is only zooming in onto two words as they echo repeatedly in my head.

Forty days… Forty days… FORTY DAYS!

"What?!" I say my horror out loud.

The fellowship turns back, each one giving me a different look. Alarm, concern, bewilderment… You get it?

"Is there a problem young Isabelle?" it is the wizard who asks me.

"No!" I immediately reply. "Not at all Dumbledore – er I mean Gandalf sir."

As the rest of the fellowship resumes their pace forward, the old wizard continues to look at me with a raised eyebrow and twinkling eyes.

"I was just thinking out loud," I explain further, trying to mask my horror from hearing that we have to walk for another forty days.

I try to calm my poor heart by telling myself that I have heard wrongly. It's fourteen days and not forty. And of course in between that and any day now we will reach a civilisation where they can just deposit me.

Yup. I just have to keep telling myself that. Fourteen days is already unthinkable. But FORTY? Nah ah.

We stop for lunch and I seclude myself in some corner while the others go about their own business. Chubby is cooking for us as usual while the paranoid one is teaching two of the little munchkins how to use a sword.

I do not bother myself with the others as I huddle myself on one of the large boulders. In between bites of sausages, I fiddle with journal.

Stupid blasted journal.

I can almost imagine my parents' horror and panic. Their only child has been missing for days. They probably think me buried somewhere in the snow after a skiing accident. I am so lost in my thoughts that I do not notice it when everyone suddenly halts. One moment I am sulking in a corner and in the next, everyone around me starts scrambling.

Orderings are being barked to hide and I find myself being pulled away by Legolas. He brings me to hide under some shrubs and I find myself searching his face for answers. His attention, however, is not to me as he looks worriedly to the sky. Whatever is out there is probably the reason why we're in hiding.

As I shift around to try to make myself comfortable in the cramp enclosure, I notice a colony of ants trailing just a few inches away from me.

Just keep to your line… Keep to your line… I chant as I watch a stray ant crawling nearer towards me. I hate ants. And bugs. And creepy crawlies.

As the ant closes in on me, I shift myself a little outwards. Before I know it, I am pulled down and I find myself leaning against a lean chest.

I let out a small squeak and a hand quickly covers my mouth. I look up in surprise to find Legolas who is suddenly in close very close proximity to me, his face less than an inch away from mine. "Shh," he whispers.

I nod my head and he finally uncovers my mouth. His hold on me though has not loosened one bit and I'm still pinned against him.

It's almost embarrassing really. I swear he can hear my heart pumping rapidly. Not to mention that my face is probably red.

Suddenly, I feel him stiffen against me. It is then when I hear what sounds like crows flying above us. It is as though everyone else is holding their breaths as we wait for the black birds to pass through.

As soon as the birds have disappeared from our view, everyone comes out from hiding. I almost wobble out. My legs are feeling a little cramped from staying in the awkward position for so long.

"Spies of Saruman.." I do not hear the rest of what Dumbledore says. There is a sudden burst of light erupting from the journal.

"Isabelle!" I hear Legolas call me.

In a blink of an eye, the mountainous scenery vanishes and I find myself back in the resort cabin.

I'm back.


End file.
